


In His Presence I Thoroughly Lived

by ninathena



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, And They're Also Really Bad at Threesomes, Bellamy Wants to Make Her Happy, Bellamy and Clarke Are So In Love, Bisexual Bellamy, Bisexual Roan, Blow Jobs, Clarke Wants A Threesome, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Guys kissing, He Also Wants Roan, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, So Very Smutty, Threesome - F/M/M, safe sex, so it all works out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninathena/pseuds/ninathena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy tries to make Clarke's fantasy come true, and in the process she tries to ease him out of his bisexual closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In His Presence I Thoroughly Lived

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the filthiest thing I've ever written and I'm not even a little bit sorry. I totally blame 3x15. Obviously this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea, so incase you haven't already, please have a looksee at the tags before venturing further into this smutfest.
> 
> I'm sorry for any mistakes, and please enjoy!

Clarke exits the shower, droplets gliding down her blonde hair before pausing at the tips till they fall, soaking into her shirt. _His_ shirt. The blue one she loves. The one he wore when he stumbled through the gates of what was once Camp Jaha, face bleeding and exhausted until she flung herself at him, attacking him with the weight of her body as her arms flew around his neck.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she rubs the hem of it with affection, the soft fabric worn and limp between her fingers.

Two years later and it was still one of her favorites to sleep in. Especially when he’s forced to leave her. Whether it’s missions lasting three days or three weeks, when she lies in their bed alone at night, body and heart aching for him to return, she wears this shirt.

It doesn’t smell like him anymore, his scent long since faded away with her washing and wearing it herself – that’s what his pillow’s for – but it still means so much, the memory it brings up of a time not that long ago when he came back to her – when he came _home_.

The neck of it falls off one shoulder as she sits on the bed, combing the tangles from her damp locks.

She doesn’t need it now though, she reminds herself with a smile. He’d just returned only a few hours before – King of the Ice Nation striding into camp beside him.

They got along better now… sort of. Understanding slowly replacing mistrust as both men and their nations worked together to survive and live on this deadly world.

Though Bellamy still glares and Roan still smirks, Clarke thinks it’s mostly out of habit, and maybe even a slight hint of fondness.

Which is why she’d been comfortable enough to whisper her fantasy the night before he’d left, their passionate, and sometimes sorrowful lovemaking, turning into a shameless, lust filled night of debauchery. With his calloused fingers deep in her pussy, stretching and massaging her drenched walls expertly, he’d rasped into her skin about how when he came back he would take care of her, make up for lost time.

But what did she want, he asked? What did his beautiful girl want when he returned?

Her mind raced with everything, all the things she’d fantasized. Some things they’d tried in their time together, some they hadn’t. But one in particular she’d been too afraid to mention until that moment with his mouth between her legs and her mind lost in a haze of desire.

“A third,” she breathed with eyes shut tight and her brow pinched together, tangling her fingers in his curls.

His tongue lapped circles around her budding clit, and he added a third finger, plundering into her with a renewed vigor.

Jaw slack, her neck craned back pushing her head into her pillow. But through the fog of lust, she soon realized that he hadn’t understood her meaning.

She shook her head, unable to speak at first. “No,” she moaned.

He released the suction on her clit, kissing the throbbing bundle of nerves softly before pushing up her body, his black eyes looking down at her while his fingers continued in their assault.

“What? What is it, baby?” he asked hoarsely. “What’s wrong?”

She felt his wet lips peck lightly just above her navel, stroking back and forth against her soft skin, smearing her arousal.

“A third person,” she clarified, mind too far gone to be worried about his reaction. “With us.” Immediately she thought of Roan; his rugged body and intelligent eyes.

Bellamy’s fingers slowed at that, lips parted without a word.

 _Then_ she started to become worried.

His brows slid together slowly, just staring at her, his blank expression unreadable. “That’s something that you’d want?” he asked tentatively.

She shook her head, stroking her fingers through his hair once again, trying to calm the uneasy feeling that’d begun to well within her belly. “No. No it’s okay, it’s just a stupid fantasy.”

His fingers halted before he crawled up the rest of her body, and her heart felt like it was trying to escape the prison of her ribcage with every inch he came closer. He eased himself down onto her, his hard planes pressed firmly against her soft curves as he slid one hand behind the base of her neck, the other laid beside her head as his knuckles brushed gently at the frazzled hair at her temple. It was a tender embrace and it eased her nervousness… at least a little.

“Clarke,” he said, voice so full and heavy – so loving it almost made her cry.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly, brows raised as she tried to convince him that it hadn’t mattered.

He tilted his head disbelievingly, small, knowing smile on his face. “Clarke, nothing you say is stupid. Nothing you want is ever stupid.”

She swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter. Just forget it.” She tried to move beneath him, compel him to continue, but he held firm and motionless atop her. “Please,” she begged, unsure how much longer she could stand the embarrassment of his piercing eyes, making her chest tight and uncomfortable.

Smile still in place, he ducked his head down, lips trailing the sensitive shell of her ear. “What do you want, Clarke?”

Her nails clung tight to him, sinking into the fleshy skin of his ass at the sound of his low, husky voice. He pushed forward slightly, rubbing himself against her, gentle and slow.

“What would you want?” he repeated. “Another girl? Your mouth tasting her sweet little pussy while I took you from behind?”

She gasped quietly at the visual he created, a thrill shooting hot and primal through her veins.

“Or maybe a guy? Huh?”

Her whine was soft but drawn out, unable to help herself.

“You want another hard cock to wrap your perfect fingers around?”

“Bellamy,” she keened.

He lifted his head to peer down at her and she was surprised to see excitement there, his beautiful mouth open and panting with exhilaration.

But while she’d been noticing the excitement in him, he’d been doing the same with her.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He rolled his pubic bone against her harder. “Huh? Come on, tell me baby. Tell me what you want.”

She opened her mouth, only hard breaths escaping – her senses in overdrive.

“What do you wanna do with him? You wanna taste him? Or maybe you want his fingers—”

“You,” she cried out. “I want you.”

He released a short, breathy laugh, kissing her jaw. “You always have me. But what do you wanna do with him?”

And she’d told him, breathless and moaning between kisses as he slid inside her. She told him how she wanted this man’s cock between her lips, pulsing hot on her tongue. Then, with a confidence she was surprised she felt, she told him how she wanted the man’s fingers on _Bellamy_ , rough and domineering over his hard body while she watched.

All the while she imagined the stoic Ice King.

It only seemed to drive him on faster – fiercer as he became lost inside her, engrossed in the words she used to paint the intoxicating picture she had in her mind.

She smiles fondly, comb finally brushing smoothly through her damp hair without snagging.

She’s waiting for him here, just like he told her to while they sat together in front of one of the many small fires dotted around Arkadia.

“I have a surprise for you,” he’d explained with a grin after she protested their separation so soon after he’d only just come home.

She leaned in, taking his lips with her own. “I don’t need a surprise,” she whispered against him, fingers skimming the small of his back under his shirt. “I need you.”

His grin only widened at that as his eyes lit with pleasure. “And you’ll have me. Go relax. I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

So she’d left reluctantly, meandering away slowly, turning to look at him over her shoulder with a pout. He’d only chuckled, shaking his head at her as he watched her retreat.

But now, even after her shower he still isn’t here, and she’s debating with herself on whether or not she should just go out there and drag his ass in here to have her way with him. Maybe she’ll even do it wearing his shirt – which she knows he’ll recognize the moment he sees it.

A knock sounds at the door, loud and solid against the metal, making her jerk. Before she even takes a step towards it, it opens, revealing Bellamy, and she cannot help the smile that spreads along her face. Just the sight of him fills her with a relief she didn’t even know she needed.

He doesn’t look at her though, instead looking out into the open hallway as he makes his way inside. She’s confused until another figure enters, wide shoulders taking up the space of the doorway before Bellamy swiftly closes it.

It’s Roan.

She doesn’t understand what’s going on, seeing as how only moments before she was sitting here waiting for her partner to show up alone so she could fuck him till they passed out for the night – essentially taking him up on his offer to make up for every minute they’d been separated.

She chokes out a gasp when she remembers what she’s wearing – Bellamy’s shirt and nothing else. It does cover the essentials – just barely. But even so, this is the King of Azgeda, their political ally and sometimes pain in the ass, whom she has had many disputes with.

The last thing she needs is to give him more reasons to give her those heated, smug looks across the council table while she argues borderlines and trade agreements with him in front of her mother.

She clears her throat nervously, pulling at the hem of the shirt, but with every tug at the front the back rises a little too high, a cool draft kissing her heated skin there.

When she peers up she’s amazed to see the Ice King hasn’t taken advantage of the view, instead only smirking at her face which she knows is bright red – damn her pale complexion. Bellamy, on the other hand, has his eyes glued to her legs, roving slowly up to the revealing shirt she has balled in her hands.

She wants nothing more than to smack the hungry look right off him. “What the hell is going on?”

The authority in her voice must be hilarious when coupled with her heated face and death grip on her shirt, and Roan’s raspy laugh makes her belly clench.

Really, it doesn’t help at all that she’s had it bad for the smug asshole for the last two years. Not that anyone could blame her.

“Wait here,” Bellamy orders Roan, before he takes her by the arm, drawing her away. She quickly grabs the back of her shirt, pulling it down as hard as possible, nearly chocking herself with the collar. She scowls at Roan over her shoulder, his cocky expression delighting her more than she will ever admit.

Once they’re hidden around the corner, Clarke turns her scowl on Bellamy. “What is he doing here?” she hisses furiously.

He bites his lip, having the decency to look at least a little guilty. “He’s here for you,” he explains in a small voice.

“For me? What are you talking about?”

He stays silent, and she soon understands his meaning. All the pieces beginning to fall into place.

“Bellamy…” She honestly can’t even believe it. Her whole body is absolutely shaking with anger and embarrassment. When she’d let him in on her little fantasy it was just that – a fantasy. Between them. And that’s where it was supposed to stay. She did not expect him to actually bring a man home for them to fuck.

“I thought this was something that you wanted?”

She grunts, not even sure what to say to that. “Bellamy, it was a _fantasy_. A kink that I told you about in the heat of the moment because I love you and I trust you. I didn’t mean for you to make it your mission to make it come true.” She shakes her head. “I mean… you didn’t even talk to me first.”

He blinks, leaning away, shoulders sagging and head hanging low.

And she has a thought. But it can’t be true. Unless…

“Was this something _you_ wanted?” she asks gently, remembering his eagerness with which he took to her fantasy. Dipping her head, she tries to catch his furtive gaze, and when she finally does her heart breaks at the shame she sees there.

“Bellamy.” She cups his face tenderly, forcing him to look at her. She can’t say she’s surprised, having always been a little curious if there was something more to his lingering looks at Murphy and Miller.

She offers up a happy smile, pressing her forehead against his before giving him a chaste kiss. “I love you. And… if this is something you want to try-”

“Only if you do,” he interjects. “I’m sorry. I just- I never even thought of bringing it up. Never would have. But then you did and- and-”

“Hey,” she quiets his nervous rambling, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “It’s okay.”

He looks slightly relieved, but still unsure.

“And I am so incredibly turned on right now that the man I love likes guys as much as I do.”

He inhales deeply, his eyes becoming pools of lust and desire, gradually chasing away the fear. She can feel the warmth of his skin as it heats beneath her palms, and she kisses him again, a long, slow pull of lips as he crowds her up against the wall. She feels him half-hard against her belly, and she practically moans right there for Roan to hear.

Not that, that would be a bad thing.

He breaks away from her, pupils dilated and breath ragged. “Are you sure?” he asks, rough and hard, making her shiver.

She peers around the corner, ogling the Ice King as he ambles around their room in his tight shirt. He examines her sketchpad with little interest, then slides his finger down the stack of Bellamy’s books beneath.

She rolls her head on the wall back to Bellamy. “Absolutely,” she says with certainty, excitement for what they were about to do, for what they were about to share, coursing through her. Sliding her fingers down his arm, she grasps his hand and pulls him into the room with her.

Roan straightens, noticing their return.

“So, I’m assuming Bellamy told you what we wanted.”

Roan’s eyes flit to Bellamy. “He did.”

“And you’re okay with that? _All_ of it?”

He raises his arms, palms up. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

She levels him with a stern gaze. “First things first, what happens in here does not leave this room. I don’t need my mother, or any of the council members for that matter, knowing our personal business.”

Roan tilts his head with a grin. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Good,” she says curtly. “And second… if we change our mind, we change our mind.” She feels Bellamy just behind her, his solid, faithful presence inspiring her with strength and confidence.

Roan snickers at that, making her glare. “I’m assuming neither of you have done this before. So I’m more than prepared for that.”

Clarke nods, not bothering to pick a fight over the truth of their inexperience.

“But you won’t,” Roan promises.

Before Clarke can sass him, Bellamy beats her to it. “Well aren’t you confident.”

Roan takes a step forward, deliberate yet unhurried. “I am. With good reason.” Another step. “And when the night’s over, you’ll agree.”

Clarke’s heart is racing, her chest rising and falling with deep, full breaths the closer Roan stalks. He stops when his chest touches her shoulder, but his eyes are locked with Bellamy.

The heated glare between the two men has her practically dripping. But she’s still taken by surprise when Roan’s hand darts behind Bellamy’s head, thick fingers pushing into Bellamy’s curls and pulling him forward until their lips meet in a bruising kiss.

Bellamy inhales sharply, his eyes open and brows furrowed in shock. But he soon catches on, giving as good as he got, and the image of them both as they fight for dominance with teeth and tongues practically undoes her.

She slips her shoulder from between them, Roan quickly filling the space with his body as he presses hard into Bellamy’s. Coming around, Clarke brushes her lips slowly over the base of Bellamy’s neck, her fingers slipping beneath his shirt and up his back.

She feels it as he begins to relax under her and Roan’s touch, and she smiles into his skin, happy for him to experience this – happy to experience this _with_ him.

The kiss ends with a wet smack and heavy breathing, and she takes the opportunity to lift the shirt from Bellamy’s body. Feeling what she’s trying to do, he reaches behind himself, pulling the fabric over his head in one swift movement then throwing it off to the side.

She quickly reattaches her lips, kissing between his shoulder blades and letting her tongue graze the wide expanse of tan skin and white scars she knows so well.

Her hands brush beneath his muscled arms, tickling their way past his ribs until she plants them firmly on his pecs, pressing her body securely against his. Hot skin soon burns her knuckles and the backs of her hands, and she knows Roan must’ve divested himself of his own shirt, as the two of them now sandwich Bellamy between them.

With one last, strong kiss and embrace, she steps away, enjoying the view before her as she makes herself comfortable on their bed. Leaning back on her forearm, her left hand smooths up her thigh, drawing lazy shapes on the soft skin, coming closer and closer to her heat.

Roan’s hand travels around, squeezing Bellamy’s ass and causing a chorus of gruff moans that pierce straight into her pulsing core.

Her finger swipes up her cunt, trailing her wet digit around her clit without touching it directly. She releases a heavy sigh, hips moving in correlation with her ministrations.

Her eyes snap open when she feels warm lips on her cheek.

“Bellamy,” she breathes.

He huffs out a laugh. “You and this damn shirt.” He grips the back of her knee, his hand so large it practically wraps all the way round, and he pulls it further out, opening her legs wider, revealing her to his heated gaze. “As much as I love you in it, I like taking it off you even more.”

“Then take it off.”

She clenches her pelvic muscles, and she knows he sees it by the way his grin evaporates, replaced by a scorching look of hunger – one she’d rather kiss off than smack off. And she does just that, her tongue plunging into his mouth ravenously, just as Roan had done not two minutes before.

They break when he lifts the blue shirt with care, cool air sweeping up her abdomen and pinching at her sensitive nipples, and she looks over his shoulder to see Roan. The Ice King watches them with a heavy lidded gaze, his rough hand tugging languidly at his cock that juts out from his fly.

She wraps her fingers around Bellamy’s wrist and drags his hand to her hot core, moving her hips desperately against him. “Bellamy, I want you.”

He smiles and kisses her temple, pushing two fingers inside with a squelch that would make her blush if she wasn’t already hot and flustered. “So I can tell,” he teases.

He strokes her, scissoring his fingers along her sopping walls making her bite the pink flesh of her bottom lip, and through it all their eyes never leave each other.

“Bell,” she moans, delirious – adrift in him and his efforts.

His fingers start to glide out of her and she seizes around them. “It’s okay, baby,” he soothes. “I’m coming right back.”

After a moment of hesitation she relaxes back, fondling her breast, massaging the supple flesh and feeling the weight of it in her palm, tweaking the nipple between her knuckles. And she watches him eagerly, hand working harder with excitement as he unbuttons and unzips, pulling off the black cargos along with the boxer briefs.

She can say without any hesitance whatsoever that she loves Bellamy Blake’s cock. It’s heavy and thick, hard and beautiful, and she has absolutely no control over herself when she swiftly leans forward, taking the base confidently in hand.

Their eyes meet when she glances up, his dark ones soft as they caress her face, and the tenderness she sees there is so touching she feels the telltale signs of burning eyes and a painful throat.

“I love you,” she croaks, around the ball of emotion, because it’s so damn _real_ in this moment.

He blinks rapidly, huffing loudly before bending down to kiss her.

She holds him tight under her fingers, purple head peeking out with every roll of his foreskin. He presses his forehead to hers, hot breath fanning across her face as she works him until he begins urging her down on her back.

He crawls over her, teeth nipping at her soft belly, licking up her sternum, kissing her full, malleable breasts and erect, pink nipples, until finally the journey ends at her neck, sucking lightly on her pulse point making fires erupt inside her.

Roan strides up to the side of the bed, still stroking himself, and she and Bellamy both turn to him, his throbbing dick inches away from their faces, and she sees the want in Bellamy’s eyes, but also the hesitance.

Fingers on his jaw, she turns his head and kisses him softly, affectionately, before giving him a look that asks if he’s still with her, if he’s still on board with what they’re about to do and where they’re about to take their relationship.

He swallows thickly with a minute nod of his head. A private gesture between them – intimate and personal. It’s not a new thing they share, reading each other without words, but it’s still as special as it was in the beginning, if not more so now.

With that, she wraps her hand around Roan without warning, and the grunt that leaves his throat makes her grin with satisfaction.

It’s strange doing this with another man. Truth be told, she doesn’t have much experience other than with Bellamy and her one time with Finn. She’s much more familiar with women. But this is something else entirely, this _sharing_. And there’s no one else she’d rather do this with – no one she trusts enough – than Bellamy.

Roan’s cock is shorter but fatter than Bellamy’s, and the differences fascinate her as she fondles his shaft with long, languorous strokes.

Bellamy returns to her neck, biting the smooth skin behind her ear before laving at the spot tenderly with his tongue. When he pushes inside her, her mind blanks for a moment, clenching her teeth as she squeezes her thighs around him. It’s only moments later that she realizes she’s squeezing Roans cock as well, though he doesn’t seem to mind too much, leaning over her and Bellamy’s bodies as he grips their headboard in his left hand.

The Ice King’s piercing gaze locks with hers as Bellamy moves over her, gliding in and out in a steady rhythm that she replicates on Roan, her palm sliding with every push and pull of Bellamy within her.

Roan’s fierce stare soon becomes too much though, scorching her with its fiery intensity, and she instead watches her hand, flicking her wrist as she pumps him harder, the nails of her left hand sinking into Bellamy’s back. She leans to her right, licking a hot strip around the bulbous cockhead in her hand, trying to get her lips around it. It’s difficult, Bellamy’s thrusts coming harder, but she manages a shallow suction on the tip.

Roan groans, the deep rumble animalistic, and Bellamy turns, taking in the sight of her as she attempts to fellate the Ice King. He slows, and she’s not sure if it’s to allow her better movement or because he wants to watch. She’s assuming both.

She knows for certain when he props himself up on his hand, hovering above her, excited eyes on her lips as she slides them further down Roan’s cock, cheeks caving in with every pull back. Releasing him, and her tongue plays with the head before licking down the shaft, all the way to his balls.

The reverberation of Bellamy’s moan spikes through her body, making her walls clamp around him – this time unintentionally – and he drops back down on his forearm with a huff, hiding his face in her neck, as if both the visual and physical stimulation are just too much to bear in his current state.

She smiles around Roan’s flesh as she cards her fingers through Bellamy’s sweaty hair, because this is honestly better than she ever could’ve imagined. Of course, she never would’ve imagined Bellamy enjoying this quite so much.

And along with the lust coursing through her, there is a twinge in her heart – in her soul. A touching intimacy when she feels Bellamy’s skin against hers, or hears his harsh breath in her ear. They are together in this, as in everything else, and even though this doesn’t involve guns, or explosions or death, it is still _so_ important – so exquisite.

Feeling the depth of it all, she slides her eyelids closed, and rolls her head to Bellamy, just wanting to be closer him, kissing the damp skin of his temple and nuzzling the black curls above his ear as she holds him to her.

He licks her, face still buried in her neck, and he moves in an almost trancelike pace, soft and gentle, drawing them both higher and tighter and tenser.

Calloused fingers pinch hard at her nipples before squeezing harshly at her breast, abusing the supple flesh, and she cries out.

She knows it’s Roan – doesn’t even have to look – because as rough as Bellamy can be with her, he’s never quite like this, never quite so abrasive and severe. Always holding himself back from crossing too far over that line of pain. And it is painful, but it’s also… pleasurable – different – the sting flashing through her, and before she knows it the coil in her belly snaps, setting off a chain reaction, yanking at her cunt and convulsing within her and around Bellamy.

She hears his groan from somewhere far away, feels his hips as they snap between her thighs until stuttering to a stop, and finally his weight, heavy and solid as he lays atop her, pushing her smaller body into the thin mattress.

The metal bars dig into her back, but the blissful cloud in her head has her immune to everything around her. She’s trembling, awash in a special kind of ecstasy that one can only feel when surrounded body and soul by the person they love most.

Her hands caress his back, feeling the muscles move beneath the slick skin with every breath he takes. And this moment is so quiet and powerful.

Until Roan breaks it, huffing as he stands over them. “You two need to work on your stamina. I’m nowhere close to done.”

Bellamy, still breathless and not quite back to Earth yet, can only give an irritated, half-ass growl that she’s fairly certain Roan doesn’t even hear much less worry about. So like the good girlfriend she is, she scowls at their third party, enough heat behind her narrowed eyes for two.

But then she notices his still hard cock as it bobs in front of him, begging for attention, and she feels slightly guilty at her and Bellamy getting lost in each other.

She inhales quietly as Bellamy pulls out, rolling beside her, curls mussed and expression relaxed as he lays boneless and sated.

“Well look at that pretty pussy,” Roan says lewdly, tugging himself with a sigh. “Leaking all over the place.”

“I’ll just have to change the sheets,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes.

Roan’s heavy body sinks onto the bed, metal frame squeaking as he kneels in front of her. She tries to close her legs but his large hands are too quick, catching her knees and pushing them apart, eyes on fire as he stares at her vulnerable, pulsing cunt.

She’s certain she’s beet red from head to toe.

“Why do that, when I can just clean it up for you?”

Her heart stops, a nearly painful anticipation in her chest as Roan bows forward. A gasp tears through her at the feel of his tongue, thick and insistent, not so much drawing out her pleasure as Bellamy does, but demanding it. And it becomes a chain-link of small explosions all across her body – her heart starting again, fast and hard.

Her thighs clamp around his head and he growls, smacking the pliant flesh. She yelps at the surprise of it more than the actual sting, body flinching slightly.

“Hey,” Bellamy barks. But before he can scold the other man, Clarke pulls him down to her, smashing his lips to hers, licking into his mouth in an obscenely dirty kiss.

And she comes, holding onto Bellamy for dear life as she pushes herself shamelessly into Roan’s talented mouth.

When she opens her eyes Bellamy is staring down at her in awe. He picks at the hair plastered to her sweaty face before sweeping them away, caressing her.

“You okay?”

She only nods, too exhausted to do anything else.

“’Course she is,” Roan says with a barely-there smirk.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Bellamy eyes him from across the bed. “And I never said anything about spanking.”

Roan gestures to Clarke with his chin, and both men take in her clearly wrecked and satisfied state. “She seems more than happy with it.”

“I don’t care,” Bellamy mutters. “That’s not what we agreed on.”

Roan’s icy look makes her stomach drop, and her happy place is suddenly disappearing in wake of the worry she has for these two starting a fight right here in the middle of their damn orgy. But then Roan’s familiar, raspy chuckle eases the tension.

“So what did we agree on? Hmm?”

He inches closer on his knees, body on fully display as he smirks down at them. Bellamy sits beside her with his arms hanging off his bent knees, hands clasped in front of him, meeting Roan’s arrogant look with a cool indifference.

“Remind me, Skaiboy,” Roan taunts.

Bellamy doesn’t rise to the bait, blinking stoically while he clenches his jaw. She wants to bite it – sink her teeth into the sharp line before nuzzling the soft skin beneath.

The tension is sizzling – snapping and crackling around them. She swears to god, the standoffs between these two are simultaneously both the most nerve-wracking and erotic thing she’s ever witnessed.

With an apathetic expression, belied by a hard swallow, Bellamy reaches for Roan, wrapping a hand around the other man’s desperate cock. He doesn’t move though, only squeezing the base of the hard flesh.

Roan grunts, like he was expecting Bellamy’s resistance. Even with the battling between these two, she can tell they’re both enjoying their little struggle with dominance. It makes her press her thighs together seeking out the pressure, her hand caressing her torso with long, barely-there strokes as she watches them intently, waiting with bated breath to see who was going to do what next.

Roan slides a hand through Bellamy’s black curls, gentle yet firm, until he suddenly grasps the strands around his fingers, pulling them with a small yank making Bellamy close his eyes for an instant with a growl.

Roan’s smirk only grows, Bellamy’s scowl doing the same. But he does begin sliding his hand with measured strokes, albeit roughly. As Roan’s hold in Bellamy’s hair loosens, Bellamy’s hand slowly begins moving at a faster, surer pace making the Ice King growl.

Clarke watches Bellamy’s movements, hard and tight… unforgiving, and she reaches out, needing to touch him, caressing her fingertips across his back. The light contact makes him shiver but also drives him on further, and her eyes go wide when he bends forward, hair pulling in Roan’s grasp, taking the mushroom head of Roan’s cock between his full lips.

Roan gives a gruff sigh of surprise, which is followed by a softer one from Bellamy, and she can’t help the whine that escapes her own throat. If she weren’t so lost in a heat of lust, she’d be laughing at how the room is filled with a cacophony of graveled moans, and sighs and fucking wet sucking sounds of Bellamy’s mouth around Roan’s eager, rigid flesh.

Her hand slides firmer across Bellamy’s back, rubbing circles and massaging the muscles beneath, all the while pinching and pulling at her nipples before opening her legs and trailing back down to her heated flesh. She avoids her clit, the small bud almost painful to the touch, but instead she caresses her everything else, rubbing around the dripping canal before dipping in two fingers, hips lifting to meet her shallow thrusts.

Roan pulls Bellamy away suddenly, looking down into his eyes for a moment before giving him a quick, sloppy kiss. Bellamy’s surprise makes him slow to react when Roan grabs his bicep brusquely, turning him around on all fours. His wide, black eyes meet Clarke’s as he hovers half over her, arms on either side of her head and a leg between her own.

Thankfully, even through her sex clouded brain, she still has the presence of mind to stop everything before it gets too far.

Holding on to Bellamy’s arm, she raises her other out behind him, halting Roan. “Wait, wait, wait,” she says quickly.

“What,” Roan asks with breathless irritation.

She shoots him a scathing look, making him turn away with a resigned sigh.

“We’re going to do this _slowly_ -”

“Do you really have no faith in me? I know what I’m doing.”

Bellamy huffs, rolling his eyes.

She reaches out to her and Bellamy’s nightstand, hand digging around inside the drawer until she finds what she’s looking for, holding it out to Roan.

“What the hell is this,” he asks as he takes it between his fingers.

“Condom.”

She can tell by the look on his face he still has no idea what it is. So she gives him a hurried, basic introduction into the world of prophylactics. “It helps protect against diseases.” She can sense the mood beginning to change in the room, but she doesn’t care because this is important, and no condom meant no sex – plain and simple.

“You think I’m diseased?” Roan asks as if offended, but also with a hint of what sounded like amusement with the whole situation.

“Jesus christ,” Bellamy groans as he drops his head into Clarke’s shoulder. It can’t be easy for him just waiting in this position for their resident Ice King to get it. But eventually he does, and Clarke assists in the application, rolling the thin material on before giving Roan an appreciative squeeze.

“It’s uncomfortable.”

Bellamy’s head whips back, his frustration and nervousness mounting just about as high as it can go. “Well you’re fucking wearing it,” he snaps, Roan growling behind him.

“Okay, okay,” Clarke says, trying to calm both men. “Roan, you don’t wear that, we don’t go any further.”

He nods with understanding and she wonders if his protest was more to rile Bellamy than anything else.

She rolls her eyes at these two morons and their ridiculous relationship before finally looking to Bellamy, cupping his face above her, stroking one hand down his jaw. “Hey,” she says softly, “I love you.” She kisses his cheek tenderly, trailing her lips to his ear. “We can stop this if you want,” she whispers.

Despite the tension in his body and the apprehension in his eyes, she can tell that he wants this, though she’s more worried that this is something he’s not ready for _yet_. But with a thick swallow he shakes his head.

“I’m good,” he mutters.

She offers up a comforting smile, pecking him lightly on the lips, the corner of his mouth, his nose, the soft skin between his cheek and ear. “Relax, baby,” she murmurs quietly. She kisses his neck lazily, fingers rubbing lightly at the small of his back, sliding down to caress his ass. Reaching around, she rolls his balls gently, and he lays his head back on her shoulder with a sigh.

She finds the lube on the nightstand, quickly rubbing it on her fingers before continuing with her caress. She notices Roan watching her, keen eyes blown wide, taking in her every movement.

Her fingers glide across Bellamy’s perineum, delicately at first, circling one way and then the other, working him up as she gradually adds more pressure to the sensitive skin behind his balls. His breath is hot as it rushes damp across the skin of her shoulder, and his soft moans just about do her in making her pulse

She slips her fingers through his hair, scraping her nails across his scalp lightly as she begins rubbing herself on his hard thigh, desperate for some kind of friction. The hair there is coarse and so fucking perfect she can’t help but moan, mixing with his, sounding loud in their small room.

“Fuck, Clarke,” he groans at the feel of her on his leg.

She sees a flash of Roan’s slick hand coming around Bellamy, and she feels him against her belly as he begins working Bellamy’s throbbing cock.

An image flashes in her head of what they must look like, the three of them, and she almost wants to laugh if she wasn’t already so far gone with desire.

“I love you so much,” she cries breathlessly, moving faster against him while she continues to massage and stretch, feeling it as he practically melts in her and Roan’s hands. She and the Ice King share a look and she nods her head, kissing Bellamy’s temple as Roan smooths his calloused hand up Bellamy’s back.

He bites her shoulder… hard, inhaling rapidly when Roan pushes in. She can tell it’s shallow, Roan’s hips barely moving. But it gradually comes deeper with every thrust, forcing Bellamy forward along her body making him groan.

“Oh, Bell.”

She’s close again, frantic and slippery against his thigh, but she refuses to come before he does – or at least Roan, the poor guy not having orgasmed once yet.

So she grasps Bellamy in hand, squeezing his beautiful shaft gently before pumping him, desperate to feel it – to feel him break between her and Roan.

His grunting and groaning becomes drawn out and needy, calling her name every so often between Roan’s thrusts, red face closed and tight.

“I’m right here,” she breathes. “God, baby, I’m right here.”

Then he cries out loud for a quick moment before clenching his jaw, coming hot in her hand and on her torso, setting off her own orgasm that makes her squeeze her thighs hard around his.

They lay like that, limp and exhausted, ragged breathes interrupted only by Bellamy and Roan’s grunts before the Ice King finally finishes.

Bellamy huffs when he pulls out, landing beside Clarke as Roan lies away from them, catching his own breath at the end of the bed.

She rolls towards Bellamy, arms wrapped around his bicep as she presses her lips there with a light kiss, tasting his salty sweat.

“Okay, this was a good idea,” he playfully breathes out, making her laugh.

The room falling quiet until Roan finally finds his voice. “You’re welcome.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes, setting a warm hand on Clarke’s thigh.

“And you two still need to work on your stamina.”


End file.
